Port Lligat

A busy morning. After breakfast I phoned ahead to the Girona hostel for a reservation. Then I got a bottle of water and some strawberries from La Boqueria. I found the Balearic Bookshop and chatted briefly to A, a friend of J's (from Cuba) who I had been asked to say hello to.

At the bus station they wouldn't let me take the bag of strawberries into the coach. They were afraid I might stain the seats. Fair enough. Once we turned off the highway, the road to Cadaqués was tortuous. Because of that and road works on the highway we arrived behind schedule.


I had a menu del dia at a convenient restaurant, then walked the 1.2 km to the village of Port Lligat, in a nearby bay. It was a warm, humid day and I soaked my hanky by the end of the walk. It didn't help that I had some wine with lunch.

The hotel was very comfy, it faced the main beach and had all the mod cons. It had an enticing pool which was refreshingly cool after my hot walk. It was easily the best place I had stayed at so far this trip. Of course I was splurging for it. Port Lligat is where Dalí lived and worked and I was curious about the place.

At dusk I walked around the beach. There were fishing boats in the little bay probably just like when Dalí was alive.

A little island protects the entrance to the bay. It was a lovely, peaceful place. I still remember it now and then.

This Casa Museo Dalí was his home for many decades. However I declined to visit, preferring to wait until I got to the museum in Figueres.

The yellow boat at the end was named Gala, Dalí's wife. I wonder if it was the same one he had used. I doubted it, she died in 1982, and the boat looked to be in good condition.

I walked to Cadaqués in the evening light, retracing my steps earlier in the day.

It too had a pretty harbour, and many tourists, but not the beach seeking variety. The cats were a bit shy; did people mistreat them here?

I liked the curves of this building, especially the windows. It however houses a prosaic real-estate agency.

I never get tired of taking pictures of dusk.

I like the warm glow that lamps emit when the world is turning deep purple.

Cadaqués felt more like Northern Europe than the rest of Spain because of the muted evening colours. I felt a little emotionally empty when I got back to the hotel. When one goal has been accomplished, in this case the Canary Islands, it's time to look towards the next one. That's life.